


Bedtime Stories (Again)

by Doctorinblue



Category: Golden Girls
Genre: Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25475941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctorinblue/pseuds/Doctorinblue
Summary: After a power failure the girls end up sharing a bed and a few memories
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5





	Bedtime Stories (Again)

Dorothy snapped off half of the mushy cookie between her teeth, chewed it absently for a few minutes before dunking the remaining half back into the glass of milk. She held it there, fingertips soaking as she flipped the page with her free hand and smoothed the book out at the spine. Halfway down the page, right in the middle of the murder, she remembered the cookie, now dissolved into the milk, and had to pause to wipe her fingers clean and gave up eating in favor of returning to the page. Despite the late hour - nearly two in the morning- and the glass of milk and a few too many cookies sleep still evaded her.

She'd given up the chase after hours in bed, scooped up the well-read book from the shelf, and settled herself into the kitchen chair where she wouldn't have to worry about the light drawing the attention of the others. She didn't mind the company, of course, during normal hours, but right now all she wanted was to read her way until sunup and then, and only then, she would feel ready to face St. Olaf, Sicily, and slightly delusional tales of sexual grandeur. 

Dorothy lost herself in the pages, stood beside the chain-smoking detective as he searched the crime scene for clues only he could see, the lipstick, the shoe print, and Dorothy had read this a few dozen times but she let herself forget, gave herself to it....right up until the moment something brushed beside her in the real world. Jerking her head up, jarred suddenly away from murder plots and rainy nights, she saw Rose at the refrigerator.

Rose glanced around the open door, noticed Dorothy's eyes on her, and seemed to take it as permission to speak.

"Can't sleep either?”

“No, Rose,” Dorothy said. “I’m actually sleeping quite well, that’s why I got a snack and a book at two in the morning.”

“Oh,” Rose said, after a moment. “Well, I can’t sleep a wink. I shouldn’t have had that last cup of tea. I know it’ll keep me up all night. You know it reminds me-“

“Please, Rose. No St. Olaf stories in the middle of the night. Save the fish three-ring circus for dawn at the very least.”

"It's funny you should say that," Rose says, dipping into the refrigerator and appearing again with a half chicken and a block of cheese. "When I was eight years old-"  
"Rose!"

Rose's mouth snapped shut, but Dorothy had little doubt she was filing the story away and would be ready to share the next time anything could be even remotely related to that time she had tea with the Florfinsnaggle at the fish Olympics while wearing her oodinghossers.

“Oh, girls!”

Both Dorothy and Rose’s head snapped to the door as Blanche stepped in, looking far too alert and pleased for the current hour.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” Blanche says, heading towards the coffee pot. "I’ll make the coffee. Oh, girls, I was having the yummiest dream. I just have to tell you about it."

“I love dreaming about food-“ Rose started. 

Blanche tucked the coffee filter into the top of the maker, shaking her head quickly.

“No, honey. Not a food dream. Even yummier. A man dream.”

“I’ll take a coffee,” Dorothy interrupted, hoping it’d be enough to stop the incoming flood of details. “Let’s finish off the cheesecake. Grab the forks, Blanche.”

“There I was with Doctor Harris, you remember him of course,” Blanche said, rattling around in the silverware drawer.

"Was he the one who kept circling back around to listen to your heartbeat during that house call I interrupted?" Rose asked, cutting into the chicken. "I don't think he was a very good doctor though, Blanche. He had to put his ear right on your chest to hear it."

"Oh, honey," Blanche muttered.

Dorothy was sure she was in some sort of hell. Or Purgatory at the very least, some sort of middle ground where she was allowed cheesecake at the cost of listening to borderline smut and an airhead.  
“Yes,” Blanche agreed, a little too proudly for Dorothy’s taste, as they returned to the table with coffee and cheesecake.

“Well, what happened,” Rose said and leaned in closer as if she couldn’t already deduce the ending of the story.  
Then again, being Rose, maybe she couldn't.

As luck would have it, by the same sort of merciful provider of cheesecake and ice cream, the lights flickered then clicked off. Dorothy counted a few beats, sure that the darkness wouldn’t last, sure that as soon as the bulb popped back into function she'd have to hear exactly what doctor Harris did with his stethoscope.

“Well, I can’t see a thing,” Blanche said as a minute turned into two. “It’s not even storming or anything. A line must have gone down. It could take hours to fix.”

“What are we going to do?” Rose asked.

“Nothing to do but try to sleep,” Dorothy said, shifting to her feet, making up their minds along with hers. 

“Alone?” Rose asked. “I’ll never sleep, you know I’ve been leaving the lights on because of that book I read last week at the library.”

“Rose,” Dorothy said, scooping up her dishes and inching her way to the sink. “It was a children’s book.”

“That creature was horrifying, Dorothy! You saw those teeth.”

“Well, what about me?” Blanche added. “Rose just read some stupid story, but I’ll freeze to death alone in that great big bed.”

Dorothy considered saying no, but she’d end up with a bed-full of company by the night’s end either way.

“Fine.”

“Can I bring my coffee?” Rose asked.

“No, you’ll be in the bathroom for the rest of the night.”

“I don’t want you crawling over me,” Blanche agreed. “You wiggle too much as it is.”

Dorothy started for the door, pushed it open and stepped out into the living room where the moonlight provided enough light to work her way to the hall. A shadow stepped into view. The shadow continued walking towards them, until it at last bumped into Dorothy as she tried to take a step back, leaving her sandwiched between a small and bony frame and Blanche and Rose. 

Dorothy shot out her hands, steadying the figure as best she could before she felt her hands being slapped away. 

“Who’s pawing at me,” Sophia said. “I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it.”

“Ma!” Dorothy said and narrowed her eyes. “It’s me, Ma. And you don’t have a gun.”

“It’s called a bluff, Dorothy,” Sophia said. “If you knew how to do it you’d finally win a game of poker.”

“I don’t win because you keep stuffing aces in your shirt sleeve,” Dorothy said. “What are you doing up?”

“I heard noises,” Sophia said. “I thought we were getting robbed again.”

“It was just us,” Rose said from behind her. “The power is out.”

“Thanks, Rose; I thought the cataracts had finally got me.”

“We’re headed back to bed, Ma,” Dorothy said, shuffling past her into the hall. “They’re sleeping in my bed tonight. Are you joining us?”

“A sleepover with you three? Don’t you remember the last time -“


End file.
